


Familiar

by robotsdance



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Bodyswap, F/M, Humor, MSR
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-25 18:45:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4972162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robotsdance/pseuds/robotsdance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scully woke up on the wrong side of the bed, and not in the metaphorical sense.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Familiar

—2011—

Scully woke up on the wrong side of the bed, and not in the metaphorical sense. No, she woke up on the wrong side of the bed in the very literal _she fell asleep on the right side of the bed and now she was on the left_ , sense. Except that when she looked over she was fast asleep right where she was supposed to be.

She freed herself from the tangle of sheets through a series of (perhaps overly violent) kicks. The body she was in was familiar, but it wasn’t hers.

“Mulder!” she said urgently and it came out deep and rough in his still-mostly-asleep voice and she watched the surreal sight of her body waking with a start.

“Scully?” he replied, still asleep enough to not have fully registered the pitch of voice he had responded to.

“It happened again.”

Mulder was still rubbing his (technically her) eyes, trying to drag himself from sleep as he rolled over to face her. When he did manage to look at her and take in her appearance, his response was utterly nonchalant, “Well, it wore off last time.”

This was true. The previous incident of this nature had lasted about 46 hours. They had spent two days in each other’s bodies while diligently trying to stay focused on the case at hand (which they had more-or-less solved, thank you very much). But that had been years ago. Well before they started recreationally sharing beds.

They never did figure out what caused it. Or what made it stop for that matter.

“We’re six states away from- what was that town again?” Scully asked as she scratched her stomach.

“Greenville. But those spirits wandered Scully,” Mulder pointed out, “That was their whole deal.”

“Okay, but last I checked our home isn’t a known hotspot for wandering spirits to invite nearby souls to cross their well-worn bridges…” 

“My breasts beg to differ,” Mulder replied, cupping one of them for good measure.

They both burst out laughing, and hearing Mulder’s laugh get filtered through her giggle made Scully laugh harder. Once she had gotten a hold of herself she said, “This is so fucking weird.”

“At least it’s the weekend,” Mulder said as he sat up and yawned, “We don’t have to go anywhere this time.”

Scully cringed at the memory of trying to function on any sort of professional level while awkwardly steering Mulder’s body around. It had been a rough two days.

 “I’m going to make some breakfast. Want some?” Mulder offered as he got out of bed and stretched his arms towards the ceiling.

“Please.”

—1996—

_Something was wrong. Her body felt strange, heavy and disoriented and out of proportion somehow. Her voice was off when she called out to Mulder, desperate to locate him in the pitch black cave they were (now officially) lost in together. From somewhere to her left what sounded like her own voice echoed back at her. She felt woozy but could hear Mulder’s erratic footsteps getting closer to where she was._

_They felt their way along the walls of the cave until they burst back into the sunlight, staggering a little as their eyes struggled to adjust before they turned to each other to assess the damage._

_It was a lot to take in. She was looking down at herself, who in return was blinking up at her in amazement._

_“Scully?” she watched herself ask as she reached up to touch her own face like she had just realized she had one._

_She mirrored the gesture, raising her hand and feeling the roughness of the hint of stubble on her cheek. Mulder’s cheek._

_No, she thought, No fucking way._

——

Mulder was just pouring the coffee when she came downstairs and sat at her usual place at the table where a plate of scrambled eggs and a piece of toast were waiting for her. She banged her knee on the piece of wood that Mulder was always so keen to avoid (thus her having this side of the table) and she winced a little at the dull pain it caused. Mulder was still stirring cream into her coffee so he did not notice.

He was still wearing what she went to bed in (one of his old shirts and pyjama bottoms) and she was wearing basically the same outfit. She smiled at the symmetry of this but lamented not wearing something really ridiculous to bed the night before to watch him struggle with it now.

He placed her coffee beside her plate before sliding into the chair across from her.

She thanked him and took a sip, then immediately put the mug back on the table with a look of disgust. Across from her Mulder looked (very literally) exactly how she felt. He was grimacing, looking at the coffee in his hand like it had offended him on a deep and personal level.

There was a moment when they looked at each other perplexed, then they pushed their mugs across the table feeling foolish.

Mulder took a cautious sip of the coffee with cream she had just returned to him, “Much better.”

“Mhmm,” she agreed after trying his.

“I’d forgotten that stuff tasted different,” Mulder said, “I mean it makes perfect sense, what with having a different tongue and all, but still.” 

She nodded as she added more salt to her eggs, “Maybe I’ll like sunflower seeds more.”

“You’ll be able to reach the cupboard they’re in at least,” Mulder teased.

“Be nice to me. I’m the one who can reach them for the next two days,” Scully pointed out, barely containing a smile, before she took a bite of toast.

They ate in silence for a few minutes before Scully said, “I don’t even remember which case we were on the last time this happened. The one with the butterflies?”

Mulder shook his head and she was transfixed by the way her long hair moved as he did, “Nah, it was the disappearing hikers.”

‘Right,” she said, “I remember being preoccupied,”

“I remember you hitting your head a lot,” he countered, “Maybe it affected memory?”

“I was hitting your head,” Scully reminded him.

“I know,” he replied, “I had a bump on the side of my head for a week afterwards.”

“Says the person who sprained my ankle…”

“Did not!”

“Twisted then,” Scully corrected.

“Fine,” Mulder conceded before he asked, “What time did we go to bed last night?”

Scully shrugged, “Around 11?”

Mulder glanced at the clock on the wall behind her as he calculated, “Well if it’s anything like last time, we should be back to ourselves by this time Monday.”

“Hopefully,” Scully said, “Though we should probably have a plan B.”

“Brain transplant,” Mulder supplied easily.

“Perfect,” she deadpanned between sips of coffee, “Can’t wait.”

——

_Scully point-blank refused to let either of them drive in their current state (whatever exactly that was). She was rattling through a list of possible reasons for such a hallucination as she checked their vital signs while Mulder alternated between examining the mouth of the cave they had just left and looking at his (her?) hands. He kept looking at his hands._

_They were spared a longer argument about how to get out of there when a couple with a large fluffy dog came off one of the adjacent trails and offered to give them a lift back to town._

——

A little while after breakfast Scully decided to go out for a run and reached for a sports bra automatically.

“If we had neighbours,” Mulder said wryly, “That would get them talking.”

She put on one of her old bras anyway, just to make him laugh and he did, dramatically covering his eyes as she flexed and posed for him.

“You want me to come too?” Mulder offered as she took off the bra and casually tossed it at him, “So that you’re actually running?”

“I just want some endorphins,” Scully replied as she opened the drawer he kept his t-shirts in, “You’re welcome to join me.”

Mulder shrugged, “I’ll pass. There’s some stuff around the house I want to do.”

She gestured to the nightstand where they kept an assortment of supplies for recreational bed activities, “There are more batteries in the kitchen if you need them.”

Mulder looked indignant, “Why do you assume-”

She stopped riffling through his shirts to look at him, “Because more than once you have bemoaned the missed opportunity.” She turned back to the dresser and selected one that he worked out in, “And here the universe has granted you the opportunity once again.”

——

_Scully demanded they go straight to the hospital for blood work and every other test she could think of and get access to on short notice that might help illuminate the cause of their current situation. (“Current Situation” was what Scully kept calling it in her head. It seemed more manageable that way.) She had to pull a few strings (well, she had to get him to pull a few strings as her) but soon they were prodded, poked, scanned, and x-rayed and were about to be sent on their way, though Scully was still skeptical about leaving._

_“What if we’re contagious?” she told Mulder, “What if we’re a danger to ourselves or to others? We have no idea what’s going on here.”_

_Mulder, who had been relatively patient throughout the process so far said only, “Oh I think we have a pretty clear idea of what’s going on here.”_

_“Do we?” Scully said as she crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows, “Enlighten me.”_

_“It’s a pretty clear case of consciousness-swapping,” Mulder said, “Or body-swapping if you prefer.”_

_“That’s a science-fiction trope Mulder,” she replied, “It’s far more likely that we’ve been exposed to something or intentionally drugged or-”_

_His phone rang and she looked at him, waiting for him to answer the familiar ring before she realized the phone was in her pocket._

_“Sc- Mulder,” she answered as Mulder smirked up at her. The voice on the other end of the phone told her about the new evidence they had found and how she wanted them down at the station as soon as possible._

_Mulder looked at her expectantly until she gave up and said into the phone, “We’ll be right there.”_

——

Mulder followed Scully down the stairs and watched her pull his running shoes out of the closet and lace them up.

As she headed out the door she looked back over her shoulder to catch his gaze. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she told him playfully.

He grinned.

——

_So they went to the police station. They still had a case. An actual case. That they were supposed to help solve. Hikers were still disappearing at a troubling rate under mysterious circumstances._

_Thankfully, there wasn’t a whole lot they could do at the moment. There was a brief moment of panic when it seemed like there might be a body that Scully had to autopsy (Mulder had looked up at her, eyes wide with panic), but mercifully that wasn’t the case._

_Mulder provided a string of far-fetched theories (that Scully privately hoped no one would hold against her in the future) as they went over what little evidence they had managed to collect. Soon all that was left for them to do was to talk to the most recent missing person’s next of kin._

——

She returned from her run about 45 minutes later in desperate need of a shower. Even though she had spent the greater part of the last hour thinking about the various ways Mulder’s body felt different than her own and was currently thinking about how his running shoes felt like wearing boats she still found herself startled by seeing herself lounging on the couch wearing Mulder’s favourite sweater.

“So?” she asked as she closed the door behind her and Mulder looked up at her, a dreamy expression on his face. Evidently Mulder wore her brand of post-orgasmic haze well.

“Did you know,” Mulder said conversationally from where he lay, “That a clitoris has twice as many nerve endings as a penis?”

“You don’t say,” Scully replied casually as she kicked off his massive shoes.

——

_Catching their reflection in the glass door as they approached the house was comforting (they just looked like them) right until she moved but her reflection didn’t. And even though she was painfully aware that the body she was in was not hers, watching her reflection move independently made her heart rate quicken, an instinctive, visceral reaction that she had to rein in when the door opened._

_“Agents Mulder and Scully,” Mulder introduced them to the woman who answered the door with a vague hand gesture before he stopped and took a moment to point to them in turn, “Scully” (he pointed at himself) “Mulder” (he pointed at Scully). The woman nodded and Scully hoped they found a way to fix this before people noticed their tendency to firmly establish who was Mulder and who was Scully before every conversation._

——

“I’m going to have a shower,” she announced once she had finished stretching in the hall.

“Kay,” he replied, settling himself further into the cushions, “Have fun. And feel free to have, you know, lot’s of fun.”

Scully rolled her eyes.

“I’m just saying, you know how to work my equipment,” Mulder said, “No need to be shy.”

“It’s not exactly rocket science, I assure you,” Scully said lightly as she walked past him, but then paused and went back and leaned over the back of the couch, unable to help herself. “Maybe I want to fuck you later,” she murmured into his ear and greatly enjoyed the way he went very still, his eyes wide. She was mostly just teasing him, but god was it fun to make his brain short circuit.    

——

_Mulder convinced the officer who had agreed to give them a ride to drop them off a few blocks from their motel, and it took Scully all of ten seconds to figure out why._

_The town’s visitor welcome centre/ ice cream parlour had a poster advertising a “Haunted Hike” on the window. Mulder flashed her a grin as he pushed the door open._

_“Yeah the tour starts at dusk,” the teenager behind the counter told him as she handed him a pamphlet to reinforce this, “It’s best to get here a little early. It’s pretty popular.”_

_“Two for the haunted hike,” Mulder told the young woman firmly before glancing up at Scully who was looking less than enthused. “My treat,” he added with a grin and started searching Scully’s clothes for her wallet, but Scully was too quick, her hand already already on his wallet._

_“No I insist,” she said as she pulled out some cash and handed it over as she smiled at Mulder before she added to the woman behind the counter, “And you can keep the change.”_

_“Thanks!” she said as she put the money in the till and dumped the considerable amount of change into the tip jar in front of her before she handed two tickets to Mulder._

_Mulder passed one of the tickets to Scully and she glanced down at it. It was printed on purple paper and had a cartoon ghost on the back._

_Mulder studied his own ticket intently. “Spooky,” he said._

——

It was still, well, spooky, to watch another person pilot your body, Scully decided. It felt wrong to be able to watch herself from across the room in this way. She could hear Mulder in her voice, (his inflection, his speech patterns, the way he said “Scully” like that word was a whole universe that he couldn’t help but explore, were all so Mulder it made her ache from the familiarity of it) and she could see him in her too. He still stood and moved like Mulder, even though her proportions were different and didn’t always accommodate his favourite positions to lounge in (more than once he reached his foot out to rest it on a table or chair only to have it crash onto the floor, not long enough to reach its destination).

Mulder too, was suffering from the tendency to watch her move his body around with a combination of curiosity and slight discomfort. So far he had commented on his voice, his nose, his lips and the way his arms moved when she walked. And Scully swore she caught him staring at his ass as she walked by.

“Liking the view?” she asked, unable to keep a straight face.

Mulder denied everything, and Scully listened to him explain himself with her well-practised ‘I love you but I don’t believe you’ expression.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Mulder exclaimed, clearly flustered, “I can see your face in my face and it’s freaking me out.”

——

_She had to admit, he was faring a lot better in heels than she would have expected. He had not done so without complaining, and he wasn’t exactly bounding along the sidewalk as they walked back to their motel, but he wasn’t wobbling all over the place either._

_“We’ve got some time to kill,” Mulder said, “You hungry?”_

_She was, so they stopped at a cafe for sustenance. He got in line and she told him what to order for her and excused herself to go to the restroom._

_“Scully!” Mulder said sharply and she turned back to look at him. He tilted his head towards the door she was about to enter, looking at her significantly._

_She looked at the sign on the door she had automatically gravitated towards and froze. Right. She gave Mulder a look that she hoped expressed that she had everything under control before she turned and walked into the men’s room instead._

——

“We need to do a better job of cleaning the top of this bookcase,” Scully said as she surveyed their living room from angles that usually only Mulder was privy to, “Although on second thought, there’s a spider up here that looks big enough to legally own property. We should probably just move.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Mulder agreed, not looking up from the newspaper in his hand, “I’ll start packing.”

——

_“You would not BELIEVE what that asshole just said to me,” Mulder muttered, still fuming as he fell in step beside her and handed her a coffee and sandwich. Behind him she could see the man he’d just left still leering at him._

_“Oh?” Scully asked lightly, “Try me.”_

_She watched the realization hit Mulder like a kick to the face. He was silent for a long while before he told her quietly, “I don’t give you enough credit for not killing people on a daily basis.”_

_“No one does,” Scully sighed._

——

She could not quite get used to the whole having a penis thing. It was just there, and it was not like it was really doing anything, but she noticed. (Mulder had teased her for adjusting in a far less than subtle fashion earlier).

She caught her reflection as she was washing her hands (his ginormous hands) and she stared into his face in the mirror for a long time. The disconnect between what she knew herself to look like and the reflection in the mirror was notably disquieting. Scully was filled with empathy for those suffering body dysphoria, because even knowing that for her this was temporary, it was still uncomfortable and distracting and strange. She missed her body and made a mental note to appreciate it more when she got it back.

——

_They went on the fucking Haunted Hike. Them and 14 tourists. Half of whom were under the age of 12, and exactly none of them were as excited as Mulder was to be there. (Scully hoped she would never look that delighted about ghosts ever again.)_

_Their tour guide Lee, a cheerful young man with dark hair had provided an assortment of ghost stories as they strolled along the trail in the woods, flashlights in hand. (Scully had put her face in her hands when Mulder had declined the tour-provided flashlights and instead informed Lee that they had brought their own. In retrospect, this is where she should have known no good would come of this little adventure.)_

_The abridged version of the story that really captured Mulder’s imagination was that local folklore stated that the caves were a hotspot for wandering spirits. Spirits who enabled the souls of those who visit to travel more freely between their most familiar pathways. (The longer version included an anecdote about a man, torn between his interest in two women, who convinced both of them to come with him on a walk through the caves. Predictably, but enjoyably, this plan backfired spectacularly, as the two women left the caves knowing they were perfect for each other, leaving the man alone.)_

_Once the tour was over and the other participants had dispersed, Mulder approached Lee for more information. Despite not feeling like she needed any more ghost stories tonight, Scully followed Mulder, wanting to get whatever ‘facts’ Mulder was going to base his theory on from the source._

_“So how are the pathways between souls formed?” Of course Mulder would ask about the logistics of soul pathways before he asked about anything else. Of fucking course._

_“Depends really. Familiarity. Intimacy. That connection that can be hard to explain,” Lee said, “Destiny sometimes.”_

_“So soulmates?” Mulder asked._

_“In some of the versions of the story, yes,” Lee agreed, “Two people who’ve never met encounter a spirit and have an experience that leads them to realize they’re meant for each other. That kind of thing. But most of them are about people who are close, but don’t realize how close they really are, being really surprised that their souls were comfortable enough to inhabit another, you know?”_

_Mulder bit his tongue as he looked over at Scully, who could tell by the way he caught her eye that she was still perfectly capable of silently projecting her scepticism. She was thankful for this. She was also thankful that Mulder did not answer Lee’s question literally._

_“So in these stories,” Scully cut in, emphasizing the word story, “How do people get their souls back in the right place?”_

_“Depends on the story,” Lee said with a wave of his hand, “In some of them it just wears off, in others they have to learn a valuable lesson, or find the spirit again. Sometimes they’re stuck that way forever. My sixth grade camp councillor told us one where the people had to find a golden woodchuck to appease the ghosts. It depends on who is telling the story and what they want people to get from it.”_

_“So there are no credible accounts of this phenomenon?” Mulder asked, “Anyone who’s been through this we can talk to? Or maybe police reports or other official documents?”_

_“Of people switching bodies because something weird happened in the woods?” Lee clarified, looking like he was ready for this conversation to be over, “No, I can’t say there are.”_

——

“So…. do you actually wanna…” Mulder began that afternoon.

She’d known this conversation was coming, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to roll her eyes, “Really. You actually want to fuck yourself.” She couldn’t even bring herself to add inflection to make it sound like a question.

He made a noncommittal noise, “I’m just saying I’d be open to the idea of messing around with you while we are in control of each other’s bodies. To whatever extent we are both comfortable with. I mean it would be worth it just for-”

“If you say ‘For Science’ while in my body trying to convince me to have sex with you I swear to-”

“Not for science,” Mulder cut her off looking profoundly amused, “For fun.”

“You’d have to look at this the whole time,” she pointed out, taking great care to recreate one of his more enthusiastic sex faces.

Mulder’s eyes narrowed, clearly considering the actual logistics of such a proposition for the first time. After a few beats of silence he halfheartedly suggested, “Blindfolds?”

——

_“It’s a myth Mulder. A fairy tale,” she told him firmly as they walked back to the motel._

_“And yet, here we are,” he countered like that proved absolutely everything Lee had said, “What did your blood tests turn up?”_

_“Nothing yet but-”_

_“How about the x-rays?”_

_“Normal.”_

_“MRI?”_

_“Normal.”_

_“CAT scan?”_

_“We didn’t have a CAT scan-“_

_“Yeah but if we did I bet it would come back normal.”_

_“But this isn’t normal! Nothing about this is normal!” Scully protested._

_“We’re disagreeing about an X-File. That’s very normal,” Mulder said serenely._

_She sighed._

——

Mulder had adopted the classic ‘hold boobs securely while going down the stairs to prevent uncomfortable movement’ technique without realizing it. Only after his fourth voyage down the stairs that day did Scully point it out to him, not bothering to hide her amusement as he looked down at his chest, surprised to find he was holding on to the breasts there like he was afraid they might fall off.

——

_Scully had a tendency to get absorbed in what they were talking about or the file she was reading and when this happened Mulder made sure she didn’t walk into walls. A light touch on her shoulder, on her lower back, on her arm. Enough to keep her grounded when she was thinking hard. It was normal, just one of countless ways they looked out for each other._

_Scully was looking at their blood work again as they made their way down the hall of their motel, unable to wait until she was sitting down to continue looking for any scientific explanation for their current state and she hadn’t noticed that they were almost at their rooms._

_Mulder mindlessly made the routine gesture he’d made countless times before, but the result was not quite the same. Because of the reversed height difference, his automatic ‘I’m here and the wall is there’ gesture resulted not in the usual light touch on her back, but in a firm tap on her butt instead. Which was technically his butt. But still._

_He stopped dead in his tracks looking thunderstruck as she looked up from the papers in her hand and then down at him, already failing to keep a straight face. “I’m sorry!” Mulder said urgently, “I didn’t mean- I mean I know it’s my ass but you’re in there and-”_

_He looked absolutely horrified by the sentence unravelling from his mouth and she let him flounder for a few more seconds before cutting him off by assuring him that everything was fine._

_A little while later, after they had settled in her room, with Scully sitting on the bed pouring over the lab reports while Mulder alternated between leafing through a book of local ghost stories he had picked up in the visitors centre and the information they had managed to gather about the routes of the missing hikers, Scully broke their focused silence:_

_“I can’t believe you made me watch myself apologize for grabbing your ass.”_

_It had almost been long enough for Mulder to find this funny and not mortifying. Almost._

——

He reached out for her on the couch while they were watching TV and grazed his hand across her leg like he had done a thousand times before, but this time he stopped abruptly, turning away from the television to look at her.

“Well that felt wildly narcissistic,” he said.

“Not the first time you’ve felt yourself up on the couch I bet.” It was like shooting fish in a barrel, but she couldn’t help herself.

She smirked as he groaned. He walked right into that one and and he knew it, but he recovered quickly with, “Usually it isn’t an out-of-body experience.”

——

_“I contacted the Gunmen by the way,” Mulder informed her later that evening, “They’re looking into it.”_

_“Please tell me-”_

_“Relax. I made your interest sound purely theoretical. But regardless, if things aren’t back to normal when we wake up, we have to go back to that cave,” Mulder said, “First thing tomorrow.”_

_“I agree,” Scully said and Mulder looked at her, confused, until she continued, “We need to look for toxins or mould or anything that could have altered our conscious state.”_

_“Come on Scully, you know as well as I do that the answer isn’t in some green slime on a rock. It’s not like we were licking our way through the cave-”_

_“Wouldn’t be the first time you’d licked questionable substances though, now would it,” Scully shot back. They’d had conversations about his habit of licking evidence before (they were mostly her telling him “please stop” and him continuing to lick substances of unknown origin)._

_Mulder chose to ignore this dig, “We need to try and find the spirits.”_

_“That’s your plan? Search around in the dark in the hopes of stumbling across mythical wandering spirits? Are we going to look for that golden woodchuck as well?” Even in the midst of an experience she couldn’t yet explain to any satisfactory degree, she wasn’t about to believe every ghost story fed to tourists. It just wasn’t in her nature to believe that sort of thing._

_Mulder raised his eyebrows, “Mythical?”_

_“We could have been drugged or brainwashed or captured! Maybe we’re not even awake right now. Maybe we’re in some sort of shared hallucination but I got your half and you got mine.”_

_“All decent theories,” Mulder admitted, “But as you would be so keen to point out, there is no evidence.”_

_“There’s no evidence of anything yet,” Scully agreed, gesturing to the stack of preliminary lab reports on the bed, “Just the totally subjective delusion we seem to be sharing.”_

_Mulder considered this for a moment before he said thoughtfully, “If you see yourself in a dream, doesn’t it mean you’re about to die?”_

_Scully was glad she didn’t believe in that sort of thing either._

——

“That’s your toothbrush,” Scully pointed out when she ambled into the bathroom that night.

“Whahuh?” Mulder said before he spat in the sink and tried again, “Yeah?”

“But that’s my mouth,” Scully said, waiting for Mulder to catch up.

He looked at the toothbrush and then back at her, “Oh.”

Scully promptly added ‘New toothbrushes’ to her mental list of things they needed to pick up when they next went into town.

——

_“So are we switching bags or rooms?” Mulder finally asked, when she was starting to doze off._

_“Whose room is this?” Scully asked, not bothering to open her eyes._

_“Yours,” Mulder answered._

_“Good,” she yawned, pulling the blankets over her as she rolled onto her side._

_“I’ll grab you my bag,” Mulder said._

_She muttered her thanks and heard him leave the room to do so, but she was fast asleep when he returned with it a minute later._

——

“I must say I’ve noticed a distinct lack of scientific theories from you Scully,” Mulder said over breakfast the next day, “I’m almost disappointed.”

“I’m saving them for Monday,” she replied easily, “In case it doesn’t just go away and we need to actively look for solutions so we aren’t stuck like this forever.”

“Speak for yourself,” Mulder said, “If we get stuck like this I clearly got the better end of the deal.”

“You’re right. I’ve heard menopause is a real blast,” Scully said sarcastically, “Enjoy.”

——

_When she woke up she didn’t open her eyes right away, choosing to postpone (however slightly) the moment she had to assess and face her current reality. Sure enough, when the time came and she determined she was still piloting Mulder’s body she got out of bed with a resigned sigh._

_Not long after this Mulder knocked on her door and she was greeted by the sight of herself, clothes rumpled from sleep and still wearing yesterday’s makeup._

_“Wanna run at each other from across the room and bonk heads to see if that sets it right?” Mulder offered._

_“Not especially.”_

_“Oh I forgot,” Mulder said, “You’ve had a head start. You’ve managed to hit my head off of, what? Every single car you were in yesterday?”_

_“Shut up Mulder.”_

_“You need to shave,” Mulder said, watching as she rubbed the stubble on her cheeks absentmindedly._

_“You’re not looking too fresh either,” she countered, “Let’s shower and then we’ll grab breakfast before going back out to look at those caves before we’re needed at the station…”_

_“Um,” Mulder faltered, clearly unsure how best to proceed, “I can shower with the lights off if you’d like?”_

_“Please don’t,” Scully replied, although she appreciated his efforts to respect what few shreds of privacy still remained between them (it had been almost 24 hours, bathroom breaks had occurred, so she assumed he’d already seen everything there was to see), “The last thing we need is for you to wipe out in the shower and break my neck.”_

_“Hey-”_

_“You tripped over your own feet twice yesterday, remember?” she reminded him, then opted to offer him the same courtesy for his body he was showing hers, “And I can forgo a shower and just shave if you’d prefer.”_

_Mulder shook his head dismissively, “You’ve seen me naked before.” This was true. Through she had been acting as a doctor on that occasion and had definitely not been lathering his body up with soap at the time…_

_They showered promptly. Scully had spared a few moments to spike his hair into a mohawk to amuse herself, but otherwise the process was clinical and efficient. Mulder’s shower was evidently even more so, as he was showered and dressed and waiting in her room when she came out of the bathroom wearing the suit she had found in his bag._

_After a brief once-over where Mulder complemented the tie she had chosen (the ugliest one in his bag) and she had assured him that he didn’t have to wear makeup if he didn’t want to (he opted to have Scully put some on him anyway and Scully was almost disappointed this would spare him the parade of unwanted ‘You look tired’ remarks from strangers) they set off to breakfast as planned._

_Sitting across from each other in the cafe across the street, reality seemed to come into much sharper focus than it had been at the motel. Suddenly they were FBI agents who were trying very hard not to acknowledge that any part of their morning routines had been out of the ordinary._

_If they didn’t say anything about it, they could be like any other table of two. Co-workers and friends. Normal ones. Two normal people sharing a normal meal like they hadn’t been naked and touching the other’s body half an hour ago. Scully sighed. Normal people had those kinds of mornings too, but the naked touching involved was the kind that came with an orgasm or two. She and Mulder were not predisposed to that kind of morning. Nope. They got the kind where she had to worry about not cutting open his chin while shaving and he had to figure out how to put on a bra. Sometimes her life felt like a cruel cosmic joke she sighed as she sipped her disappointing beverage._

_Determined not to let it get to them, they discussed the coffee and bagels with significantly more enthusiasm and attention to detail than strictly called for before they turned their efforts to brainstorming how best to get back to the cave without a car._

_They were just starting to weigh their options when Scully’s phone rang. Mulder found it in the second pocket of her jacket he looked in. He looked at her for a second before answering the phone with a confident, “Scully.”_

_“We can’t go to the caves now,” Mulder informed her once he had hung up, “One of our missing people just turned up.”_

——

She found a small tub of her most favourite ice cream in the world nestled in the back of freezer and struck by sudden inspiration, she set off to find Mulder.

She found him in the first place she looked, tucked away in his office, pencil in hand, looking over a stack of articles on his desk. He had clearly gotten frustrated by his hair falling in his face because he had improvised what, for lack of a more accurate term, she would classify as a ponytail.

He turned to look at her when he heard her enter the room and she had a sudden flash of their first meeting played in reverse, a version of them where she was the spooky one in the basement and he was the one sent to keep her in check. She wondered if that Mulder and Scully would have found themselves here as she glanced at the poster on the wall behind him. She wanted to believe indeed.

Mulder said her name and she turned away from the poster and let the thoughts of alternate universe Mulder and Scully’s drift back to Mulder’s realm where they belonged and resumed her original intent.

“Here,” she said, scooping out a spoonful of ice cream and offering it out to him, “You need to try this.”

“I’ve had it before,” Mulder said, looking a bit confused by why he was being ambushed with ice cream so soon after breakfast, “It’s good.”

“Trust me,” she said and he did (does, will always) so he leaned forward to accept the ice cream.

It had barely made contact with his tongue before his eyes went wide and he moaned with almost indecent delight.

They wasted no time finishing off the rest of the ice cream together, taking turns using the single spoon Scully had provided as they sat side-by-side on the desk. (The articles Mulder had been sorting through lay forgotten).

——

_No-Longer-Missing Person Callum Cross, who was in decent shape for someone presumed dead, was nevertheless in no position to talk to FBI agents when they arrived at the hospital (thanks to the generous efforts of Officer Bailey, who had offered to drive them). They got what little information they could out of the staff regarding when he arrived (about 5am that morning) and where he was found (just outside in the hospital parking lot, he was alone, no security footage), but ultimately they would have to wait for Callum to stabilize before they could get his side of the story and then see where that led them._

_They spent the better part of the day canvassing for anyone who might have seen anything out of the ordinary at the hospital early that morning and didn’t turn up much.  Mulder’s collection of theories was evolving, each as unfounded and paranormal as the next. Scully too, was working on some more down-to-earth theories which were based (unlike Mulder’s theories) on what little evidence they had managed to piece together so far._

_On the way back to town Mulder asked Officer Bailey to drop them off by the rental car they had abandoned by the start of the trails the day before. Scully, unable to come up with a good reason to decline this offer (that she could say in front of Office Bailey), reluctantly agreed to this plan._

——

That afternoon they went grocery shopping and loaded the cart with all of the most delicious food they could think of. By the time they got to the cashier their haul looked like something teenagers with a severe case of the munchies would have thrown together, not something two grown-ass adults should be buying.

Mulder pulled her debit card out to pay and Scully had to lean in and whisper her pin number in his ear.

——

_“It was a good idea,” Mulder repeated as they walked along the trail they had been on the day before, even though Scully hadn’t brought it up (though he was reading her silence correctly), “Now we have the car back and we’ll get another look at that cave without having to sign up for one of the walking tours to get a ride out here.”_

_Scully was too busy looking for evidence of an organic hallucinogenic to dignify this with a response._

——

After they got back and put away the groceries Mulder convinced Scully to come play basketball with him. They were both terrible. Scully was certain that if the basketball hoop she had gotten Mulder for his birthday had been given a choice in the matter, it would not be participating in such nonsense.

Mulder shot consistently too low or way too high trying to compensate for the height difference. He mishandled the ball constantly, unused to Scully’s hands or arms or legs or anything really.

Scully, who had a great number of skills of which basketball had never been one, was further hindered by the fact that she couldn’t even look at Mulder without cracking up. Determined to dress for the occasion and when her wardrobe had failed him, he had chosen to wear his own basketball attire. The shorts, which were long and baggy on Mulder’s body, were comically enormous on Scully’s. They fell practically to her ankles and by the looks of it, were held around her slim waist by only hope and a drawstring pulled so tight the ends were dangling dangerously around her knees.

The shirt he had chosen was equally huge, looking more like a questionable dress or an old-fashioned nightshirt than anything that would improve someone’s game. And to really tie the whole aesthetic together, his ponytail skills had not improved much since that morning. He (and by extension she) looked utterly ridiculous. She kept losing track of who was supposedly winning the game they were clearly both losing because she was trying to burn this monstrosity of an outfit into her memory.

——

_Their second journey through the cave was not successful in any regard. They wandered around, guided only by the light provided by their flashlights, waiting for something to happen. Well, Mulder was waiting for some ghosts to pop out of the walls and switch them back. Scully was looking for evidence of something, ANYTHING, that would be useful in reversing the effects they were experiencing._

_Something rustled in the dark and Mulder, hoping he was about to encounter a spirit, turned off his flashlight to more accurately replicate the scenario that had landed them in each other’s bodies in the first place. Scully, who heard only Mulder’s excited yelp, fixed the beam of her flashlight first on him, and then on where the noise she could not place was coming from. Two beady eyes very close to Mulder’s shins reflected the light of her flashlight back at her._

_Startled, Mulder leapt away and stumbled on the uneven ground, toppling over with a thump while Scully watched the small fury creature the eyes belonged too scurry off into the dark._

——

After their game of basketball had been put out of its misery, Scully (who had been touching the stubble on her face with increasing frequency all afternoon) decided to shave while Mulder showered.

Due to her proximity to the shower, she was treated to Mulder’s enthusiastic (and horrifically out of tune) rendition of _Five Foot Two, Eyes of Blue_ that tragically, the noise of the running water did not adequately drown out. He was completely undeterred that he did not remember most of the words (he improvised what he had to, and she definitely caught something about aliens in the new lyrics) or that his control over Scully’s singing voice (which was terrible to begin with) was loose at best.

When her mortified protests to this impromptu concert were met only by a second verse, punctuated by giggles, she serenely focused her energy on brainstorming the perfect song to sing in retaliation when it was her turn to shower.

——

_The journey back to the car was not pleasant. Scully had to help Mulder hobble alongside her while he alternated between spouting pieces of ghost and/or spirit related theory and grimacing in pain every time he put too much weight on his ankle._

_The drive back to the motel was equally uncomfortable. Scully drove, as Mulder’s ankle was in no shape to be responsible for heavy machinery. Scully was not pleased that they had to drive at all, still worried that they were under the influence of something that wasn’t ghost-related. Mulder, on the other hand, was thrilled they had their own method of transportation at their disposal again, but was frustrated that Scully was refusing to accept that the answer to their conundrum was in the caves they were now driving away from and not in her precious lab reports._

_When they got back to the motel Scully helped Mulder limp to his room, where she guided him into one of the chairs and pulled the other one over so he could rest his injured foot on it._

_“I’m going to go get ice,” Scully told him, “Keep it elevated. That’s my ankle, remember?”_

_“So it’s officially ‘your ankle’?” Mulder asked, “I thought it was just a hallucination and any second now we are going to wake up in that cave or in a test facility or something?”_

_“I’m keeping my options open,” Scully replied darkly as he fidgeted, “Seriously, hold still until I get back with ice.”_

_She returned with a ziplock bag full of ice which Mulder applied to his ankle gratefully before she retreated to her room._

_Scully could just barely hear the TV from Mulder’s room next door (which comforted her in knowing that he was winding down for the day and wouldn’t be running off into the unknown on a bad ankle tonight) as she tried to figure out what to do with herself. What she really wanted was to take a bath, but she thought better of it._

_Pretending her decision to forgo the bath she desperately wanted was based on the logical assumption that Mulder was too tall to comfortably fit in the tub and not at all based on her feeling weird about spending leisure time as naked Mulder, she opted simply to change into the vaguely adequate pyjamas Mulder’s overnight bag provided and read until she fell asleep._

——

After dinner (a feast of their favourite foods, gleefully re-experienced for the first time) they made their way onto the porch and settled into the lawn chairs that had once adorned their living room to watch the sunset.

“Do you remember what the sign on these chairs said?” Mulder asked fondly as they watched the sun sink lower in the sky, the clouds on the horizon all brilliant pink and purple.

Of course she remembered. They had just picked up the keys to the house (Their house. The house they owned. And were going to live in. Together.) and they were both a little overwhelmed by the simple fact that they (Mulder and Scully) had a fixed address again and were just starting to worry about all of the things they needed to do now (everything they owned fit in the trunk of their car, and exactly none of it would help furnish a house). It was late enough that no stores were open and they were already making a list of necessities for first thing the next day when Mulder had spotted something on the side of the road. He had pulled over to read the sign on the ugly orange lawn chairs: “FREE TO A GOOD HOME”.

They reminisced about the chairs and their (initially pitiful) attempts at simple home repair for a while before drifting into comfortable silence.

“Time’s almost up,” Mulder said after the last evidence of the sunset had faded into night and the stars had begun to emerge overhead, “Are you worried we won’t be back to normal by tomorrow?”

“Nah,” Scully replied as she took a sip of the beer they were sharing and passed it back to him, “I found a golden porcupine yesterday. We’re set.”

Mulder snorted, “If memory serves, the spirits demanded a golden woodchuck, not a porcupine.”

“Damn,” Scully sighed, “Now I’m worried.” She glanced over at Mulder to watch him react to her mock concern (she was not disappointed by the way he grinned back at her, eyes twinkling like the stars above them), before she looked up into the cosmic abyss.

So many things about being in Mulder’s body felt strange or wrong, she mused, but seeing the stars through his eyes felt exactly right.

——

_“Scully wake up!”_

_She groaned. Her neck was stiff and her back ached and her ankle hurt and-_

_Her ankle hurt._

_Her eyes snapped open and Mulder was leaning over the chair she was slumped in, looking down at her expectantly. Actual Mulder. Mulder-Mulder. Mulder in every sense of the word._

_“Scully,” he said again, his brow furrowed, “You in there?”_

_She looked down at her body, her wonderful, familiar, everyday body, and then back up at Mulder, “What happened?”_

_“I have no idea,” Mulder admitted, “I fell asleep as you and when I woke up a minute ago I was me again.”_

_Scully sat up straighter in the chair, rubbing her neck. “But how?” she pressed, “And why now?”_

_“Lee said it would wear off on its own.”_

_“He also said we had to learn a valuable lesson,” Scully countered. She could use folklore in an argument just as well as Mulder could if she chose to, “Or accept our fate as soulmates or-_

_“Of course!” Mulder exclaimed loudly, “That animal we saw last night, it must have been-“_

_“Please don’t-”_

_“The golden woodchuck!”_

_Scully didn’t know where to begin. “First of all, it was not golden,” she said pointedly, “And second of all, it was a raccoon.”_

_“Suit yourself,” Mulder said with a shrug, “But it fits.”_

_Scully took a deep breath. She needed caffeine if they were going to continue this conversation._

——

“So what did we learn this time?” Scully asked the following morning as she stretched, revelling in the feeling of being back in a body that felt like home.

Mulder looked over at her, and it was profoundly comforting to see his expressions on his face again instead of hers. He was clearly on the edge of replying but held his silence.

As usual, Scully knew what danced across his mind anyway and told him, “That clitoris thing doesn’t count.”

——

_Back in their office a few days later, Scully was diligently typing up their (admittedly feeble) findings when Mulder came and looked over her shoulder at what she was working on._

_“Body-switching and the noble quest for the golden woodchuck…” Mulder dictated playfully, “I mean, the report practically writes itself.”_

_“I’m not putting that in the report,” Scully said flatly, not looking away from the monitor._

_They both knew there would be no mention of their personal experiences in the report. As far as they could tell, it was unrelated to the case they had been investigating (neither Callum Cross, nor anyone else they spoke to in regards to the missing people mentioned anything about out of body experiences) and Skinner spent enough time looking like he couldn’t fucking believe they had taken the time to type up the nonsense they regularly put on his desk without them adding their extracurricular activities to the pile._

_“Fine, go with the version where we learned valuable lessons about getting in and out of cars without giving yourself a concussion and how not to fall over while wearing heels,” Mulder said dismissively, “Or that some cave spirits with a sense of humour think we’re Meant To Be.”_

_“I’m not putting that in the report either,” she said again, but this time she almost smiled._

 


End file.
